


Unexpected Best Night Ever

by scullymurphy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, London, Music, Musician Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Sandwiches, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scullymurphy/pseuds/scullymurphy
Summary: Hermione Granger goes out to see a new band and the lead singer turns out to be the *last* person she expects. A short story of the night Hermione and Draco first met ... again.





	1. Chapter 1

****

Artwork credit: [the-static-hum](https://the-static-hum.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Hermione Granger woke up with a start. Her flat was dark except for the dim light of the late summer evening filtering in through her window. She rolled over, looked at the clock and groaned. She’d only meant to shut her eyes for a few minutes to make up for last night’s bout of insomnia and it was now three hours later. Ugh, was there any worse feeling than going to sleep in daylight and waking up in the dark?

She flicked on her bedside lamp and sat up, rubbing her eyes. There went another night of sleep - she’d be up all hours again. Fucking insomnia. At least it made more sense to go to that show at the Point Club now. She’d been debating because it was on the other side of the city and she didn’t love going to shows alone, but she wanted to see the headliner Low Season live. The band had been in heavy rotation on her iPod since a muggle friend recommended them a couple of weeks ago. Kind of garagey with a twang - mellow, but buzzy - she loved the singer’s voice.

_Shit_ , doors were at 8 and the show started at 9 - she’d better get ready if she was going to make it. She pulled on jeans and a soft gray cami and zipped up her highest boots. She’d need the inches if she wanted to see over the tall people in the crowd. A splash of cold water to her face, some lipstick, mascara and a bit of wand work on her bedhead and she was ready. She grabbed her leather jacket and headed out the door to the tube station.

Arriving at the basement club in Hackney, Hermione descended the steep stairs and paid £15 to enter the dark, close space. The Point was one of her favourite live music venues in London, although it was hard to pinpoint why. It was simply a long, narrow room with a bar at one end and a stage at the other. The stage was low and dinky with a tinsel curtain on the wall behind. The bar was also small and since the 8 or 9 stools lining it were the only chairs in the place, they were highly prized. Hermione had been known to arrive more than an hour early for a show just to get one of those stools. She figured she had no hope of one tonight, so was overjoyed when a bloke at the end of the bar drained his pint and got up just as she walked in. She hustled to his seat and claimed it with a happy sigh. Her night was looking 100% better than it had an hour ago.

She ordered a lager and took an icy sip as she twisted on her stool to survey the club. It was about three quarters full, although people were steadily streaming in. It looked as though the opening band had left the stage and Low Season were almost finished setting up. She turned back toward the bar and inadvertently caught the eye of a girl sitting on the stool next to her. They both smiled a little shyly.

“Good luck getting that seat, eh?” the girl said with an american twang.

“Seriously,” said Hermione. “Feels like I won the lottery. Have you seen them before?” She gestured behind her toward the stage.

“Yes, this is my second time. I caught them in Manchester in January. You?” Hermione shook her head. “Oh well then you’re in for a treat,” the girl said with a smile. “They blew me away. They have this great female bassist and, this is going to sound shallow,” she rolled her eyes self-deprecatingly, “but the singer is hot.” She put her hand up when she saw Hermione chuckle. “I am a real music fan, I promise, not just a fangirl - but you’ll see what I mean.”

At that moment the lights went down and the crowd cheered as the band took the tiny stage. Hermione grabbed her pint and turned turned all the way around on her stool, looking down as her boot heel caught on the rungs of the seat. The band launched into the opening song, the singer belting out the first lyrics. _“His voice sounds great live,”_ Hermione thought as she looked up … and almost dropped her pint glass on the floor.

The american girl had been right. The lead singer was ‘hot’ - tall, lean, broad shoulders, beautiful face and hair that was tousled just so. His black t-shirt clung lovingly to his chest and his jeans rode low on his slim hips. His charisma was immediately apparent - as if the group of rapt girls in the front row didn’t spell it out clearly enough. He was also, and Hermione’s brain was _truly_ having trouble processing this, _Draco FUCKING Malfoy_. She stared for several bars with her mouth gaping open. The girl leaned over and nudged her, “damn, I expected to be vindicated, but that’s quite a reaction,” she smirked.

Hermione collected herself, “Ah, yes. No. It’s just - I know him. Or I knew him. We, uh, went to school together. And I had no idea he was in a band.” She shook her head distractedly. “He’s actually the last person I could ever imagine singing in a band.”

“Well, lucky you,” laughed the girl, turning back to the stage.

Hermione sat in a daze. The music washed over her and there was no denying they were good - and that Malfoy was very good. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he moved around the stage. He wasn’t over the top - his demeanor was cool, but there was something simmering underneath that the whole audience responded to. Hermione felt herself responding, she’d barely registered the other band members.

She also realised she’d never had a chance to really look at him. During school, making eye contact with Draco Malfoy had been an invitation to bullying, so she’d always glanced away - even though a very remedial part of her brain recognised his attractiveness after about 4th year or so. Being able to stare her fill now without him having any clue was, what had her seatmate said? - a treat. She was especially intrigued by his hands as they traveled over the strings of his guitar… Hermione mentally shook herself, in disbelief that she was ogling Malfoy. Then she grinned. He’d never know, so what was the harm?

Her new friend leaned over again, “Ok, this has been killing me, but you’ll know the answer. Is that his natural hair color? That has to be bleached, right?”

Hermione snorted, “100% natural. I’ve known him since he was 11 and I’ve met his father. His is the exact same.”

The girl covered her heart and leaned back against the bar in an exaggerated swoon. Hermione laughed - imagining what Harry or Ginny would say about her discussing Draco Malfoy’s hair with a stranger.

She turned her eyes back to the stage and realised she wouldn’t be able to stay a passive observer indefinitely. During a short break between songs, Malfoy squinted through the stage lights in her direction, one hand peaked over his eyes - like he was looking for her. She knew what was happening - she’d experienced this before. In a room filled with muggles, the two magical people would somehow know the other one was there. It was like their magic reached out independently and found the other source. She could feel a slight pull toward him and she was sure he could feel the same coming from her part of the room. _“Oh well,”_ she thought - if he came and found her it would be awkward, but it wouldn’t kill her. At least she could honestly say she liked his music. And after all, they should be on somewhat decent terms. She had written a statement for the Wizengamot that had helped exonerate him after the war and he’d sent a very proper thank you letter in return.

With that thought Hermione decided to relax and enjoy the rest of the show. The band was really excellent. Her American friend had been right - the bassist was the shit. And for a couple of songs Malfoy sat down and played the keyboard. He was talented and magnetic. The girls in the front certainly enjoyed it.

The show eventually wound down and the band left the stage, then returned for an encore - an uptempo cover of Dylan’s _Simple Twist of Fate_ that got the whole crowd dancing. Hermione was no exception - singing along and bouncing in her seat. And then it was over. The lights came up. Hermione said a cordial goodbye to her seatmate and stood to put on her jacket. She figured if she got out of there quickly, she’d minimise any chance of an awkward meeting with Malfoy. Surely he wouldn’t want to wade out into the crowd directly after the show and risk being mobbed.

But then she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her magic buzzed and she knew. She closed her eyes and exhaled, resigned, then turned around. And there he was, looking down at her with a bemused grin. She felt lips tug into an answering smile.

“It was you,” was his brilliant opener.

She laughed, suddenly nervous. “Yes, it was me.” She looked over his shoulder, “how did you get over here without being besieged by fans? I thought I could sneak out before you caught me.”

“Wizard, remember?” he smirked, pointing to himself. “Let me tell you about something called a ‘muggle repelling charm’, Granger. It’s rather easy to cast and works a treat.”

She rolled her eyes and snorted, unable to prevent the grin from emerging again. She was also unable to prevent herself noticing that up close Malfoy was even more … compelling. His teeth flashed white as he smiled and his hairline was slightly damp from his efforts on stage. She tightened her lips in self-annoyance and attempted rational discourse. She’d always been capable of it previously.

“So, I’m here because I’ve liked Low Season for a while, but I had no idea you were in the band until tonight.” He raised a brow and she felt her face redden. “I mean, you were great. You put on a great show.”

“Thank you very much,” he replied sliding onto the stool next to her and calling the bartender over. He ordered a whisky and turned to her, “Granger, what are you drinking?”

_Ok I guess we’re having a drink together…_ She sank back down on her stool. “Uh, lager, but let me get the round. I owe you for the excellent performance.”

He inclined his head, “I’m surprised to see you here. I mean, aside from the obvious that it’s surprising to see anyone of our kind here. But I didn’t take you as someone who was musically inclined.”

“Yes, it’s something I didn’t develop an interest in until after school. Once we weren’t busy fighting a war, you know.”

Nodding over his whisky, he suddenly gave her an intense look, “I never got to thank you in person. For all that after the war. So, thank you.”

She had just taken a gulp of beer and his comment flustered her, so she sputtered a bit, “Of course - it was what anyone would have done.”

“Mmm, I don’t think so. But we can leave it at that if you want,” he half smiled.

“So how in the world did you end up fronting a popular muggle band, Malfoy??” Hermione felt that a subject change was needed and she’d been dying to know.

“‘Popular’ is a bit generous, but I suppose it started after the war for me too. I’ve always played. Classical piano, you know. Stuffy, conservative wizarding compositions that make Wagner look like Blur.” She laughed. “But after the war, when I was looking beyond my parents’ influence,” he slid a pointed glance over to her and she nodded. “I started getting more interested in all sorts of muggle things. But especially music. So I taught myself guitar and started going to gigs all over London. I bought a CD player and then an iPod and listened to everything I could. I also started writing songs. The early ones were really crap.” Hermione smiled and shook her head. “No, they really were. But I played a few of them at open mic nights, where I met Theresa - she’s our bassist - and Doug - he’s the lead guitarist. And we just got on. So we decided to form a band. We found Tim, our drummer, and that was it. That was three years ago.”

“That’s really cool, Malfoy,” Hermione said, laying her hand on his arm without thinking. He looked down at it and then up at her and she snatched it back, his gaze making her nervous again. “And I take it you’ve managed to hide your magic from them altogether?”

“Yeah, no obliviation needed thus far. But I do have to be careful to keep my lives separate. Not that I care if the wizarding world knows about this. But the muggle world is a different story, as you well know.” She nodded. “I go by a stage name here - Drake Gray - but everyone just calls me Gray for some reason. Which is annoying because I still forget to answer to it sometimes and I chose Drake because it’s near to my actual name,” he chuckled. “You want another round?” Hermione debated for exactly two seconds before nodding her head.

“Is this your only job? You do music full time?” Hermione was curious as to what that would be like. She couldn’t imagine a Malfoy as a starving artist.

“God, no! I wish,” he laughed, “Yeah, no, my day job is managing the Malfoy investments and holdings. Land, finance, various concerns. It’s full time since my father died.”

“And do you like that? It sounds like it could either skew really interesting or really boring.”

“That’s a good way of putting it. It can be boring, but I’m starting a new project that I’m very excited about.” He took a sip of his whisky.

“Oh, I think I read something about this in the _Prophet_ ,” exclaimed Hermione. “You’re doing something with the manor, right? The article was a bit vague.”

“Intentionally so. It was supposed to be just a teaser to generate interest. But yes, we’re turning the manor into a museum and library with public gardens.” Hermione made a murmur of surprise and pleasure and a quick grin flashed across his face, “The museum will be a sort of mish-mash of natural history, art and exhibits about social and cultural movements of the wizarding world. But it will also have a permanent muggle collection.”

“And the library??” she breathed.

He gave a sharp bark of laughter, “I should have known, Granger, that’s what you’d hone in on.” She shrugged and held up her hands. “Well, you may not know, but the Malfoy library collection is actually more extensive than the one at Hogwarts.” He raised his eyebrows and Hermione gasped. “More subjects covered, you know… and no restricted section. Most of it has just been sitting there untouched for years - despite my extensive reading habits.” He leaned back and stretched as she rolled her eyes, “So we decided we want to open it up. It will be like a muggle lending library or the public sections of the ministry collection, but much larger.” Hermione was now staring off into the middle distance with a glazed, covetous look. Malfoy laughed and nudged her. “You want to come see it before it goes public, Granger? You’re welcome to.” Her eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. “And I’ll tell you what,” he continued, “if you agree to participate in the opening ceremonies for the centre - give a speech or sign copies of your book - let me shamelessly use your name for publicity - I’ll let you borrow as many titles as you want before the public gets access.”

“Yes, _please_.” Hermione responded practically before he finished speaking.

He laughed and stuck out his hand, “It’s a deal.”

Hermione took his hand thoughtlessly, visions of ancient and rare titles still dancing in her head, so the jolt when their hands touched took her by surprise. It was like their magic buzzing earlier, but more intense. Her eyes flew to his. His face had sobered and he was looking at her with a peculiar kind of focus. And he hadn’t let go of her hand. He seemed to realise that too because he loosened his grip abruptly and cleared his throat before taking a large drink of whisky.

“Enough about me, though. What’s going on in your world?” he asked, running the same hand through his hair.

Hermione’s eyes followed the graceful movement, struck by the strange sensation and its effect on her, before she realised she was staring and snapped out of it.

“Me uhh, I am still at the ministry. Heading Magical Creatures division, but looking to move to another department within a year or so. You mentioned my book, so you know about that. Been traveling a bit. Japan this spring and planning a trip to Australia this winter. Always seeking out good new music and going to shows. Reading.” She realised she was rambling, but couldn’t seem to stop. He was nodding along and looking interested.

“Are you planning another book? I read your first one. It was great. You made the Statute of Secrecy creation story fascinating.”

She felt her face flush, which always happened when someone complimented her book. And she was pleased that he’d read and liked it since she admired his music so much.

“Thank you. And I’m sort of resting on the laurels of this one,” she quipped, “but I have a few ideas simmering.”

“Well all I can say is that if old Binns had made history come alive like that at Hogwarts, I would have done a lot less sleeping in class. My eyes wide shut charm would have been rubbish, though.”

She laughed as he pulled a small mobile phone from his pocket. It seemed to be buzzing with an incoming text message. He glanced at it and his eyes widened. “I don’t want to be rude, but this is something big, hold on just a sec.”

Hermione waved her hand, “please, go ahead.” She watched him as his eyes traveled down the message and his face lit up. Curiosity was killing her.

He looked up, “Hermione, do you know Seb St. James and the Seven?”

She ignored the flutterings that hearing her first name in his voice incited. “Yes, of course. I love them. They’re one of my favourite bands. I listen to _Darkness_ at least once a week.”

“God, I love that album,” he sighed. “Well this text right here tells me that Seb and the boys are playing a secret gig at Venus Recording studios starting in roughly ten minutes. Have you heard of the Venus Sessions?”

“Yes! I’ve listened to recordings of so many of them. I love the format. Informal but the sound quality is amazing.”

“I know. Well do you want to go to one? Right now?”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open.“With you?”

He slanted her a sideways glance, “well, I mean, you’re cute and all, but I don’t think you’re getting in without me, no.” His smirk was so smug it bordered on fatuous.

She reddened, “that did not come out the way I meant it.” He’d started laughing softly, “No, seriously, I’m sorry. It’s just this whole night has taken on a surreal quality. Not that I’m not enjoying it.” He was laughing harder. “But that is to say, that yes, I would very much like to go see Seb _fucking_ St. James at a Venus Session. Right now. With you.” She pounded the bar twice for emphasis. That last drink had gone a little to her head.

“Then let’s go,” he stood up and she climbed off her stool and picked up her jacket, stuffing her arm into one of the sleeves. He picked up the other end and assisted her other arm in, while she wondered when was the last time someone had done that for her. Harry and Ron were not the biggest on chivalry.

“Shit, Malfoy. Venus is in Brixton. We’ll never make it in time. The tube’s on reduced schedule this time of night and even a cab will take 30 minutes.”

“I’ve been there several times. We recorded a few songs there. There’s a little alley around the corner that’s out of sight of anywhere. I know it well enough to apparate.”

He held the door open for her and they climbed up to the street. Hermione’s mind was racing. Side along apparition required a lot of body contact if the second person had never been to the location. How were they going to do this? Was it wrong that she was sort of looking forward to however they were going to do this?

Malfoy walked quickly, his long strides leading them across the street into a deserted lot. A line of skips filled with building rubbish sat in the corner. He headed for them and grabbed Hermione’s arm, ducking behind them with a lightning quick movement. She gave a squeak of surprise and stumbled against him. His arms went around her and she only had a split second to enjoy the sensation before they were sucked into a swirling darkness and spat out on the other side. Draco released her and steadied her shoulders before grinning and letting her go. “See? Easy.”

\-----------------------

**A/N - I’m a music nerd and it’s a big part of my life, but people’s taste is so personal that I don’t necessarily want to dictate what people hear when they think of Draco singing. However, I can’t resist sharing the specific three songs that create his sound and the atmosphere of this fic for me. Check them out if you want to immerse yourself in my influence. :D  
** 1) ‘Darkness’ - Pinegrove: The original inspiration - I was listening to it one day and the whole fic popped into my mind. It’s a bit twangy and American for Draco, but it’s a great song and the reason this fic exists.  
2) ‘Love like Ghosts’ - Lord Huron: Atmospheric and beautiful. Romantic as f*ck.  
3) ‘1,000 Times’ - Hamilton Leithauser and Rostam: The more rocking and raw side of the band. When Hamilton’s voice gets scratchy and husky that’s when I picture Draco just killing it onstage.  
~ I’d also love to hear your ideas in the comments if you so desire!


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione frowned and smoothed her hair. That whole experience had been … disconcerting. But just then she heard Seb St. James’s voice emanating from a window above them and it hit her where they were. 

“Ohmigod! That’s him!” she squealed. 

Malfoy grabbed her hand and started walking, “Come on, let’s go in.” 

They approached a door that looked like it belonged to a flop house, not a legendary recording studio. Malfoy tapped on it and a very large man appeared. His face, set in suspicious lines, broke into a smile when he saw who it was and he waved them in. They dashed up a long flight of stairs and came out into a warm and intimate room lit almost entirely by fairy lights and various candles. About 35 people stood around against pillars and in various nooks, focused on a small stage in the corner, on which, arguably, Hermione’s favourite current band was settling in to play a song. Seb St. James could sell out venues that held thousands and here she was one of a few dozen. Hermione squeezed Malfoy’s hand, realising with a shock that she was still holding it, and marveled anew at the sheer preposterousness of this night. 

Malfoy leaned down and his whisper tickled her ear, “you want a drink?” She nodded and he threaded them through the crowd to a bar along the side of the room. Several people nodded or stared at him as he passed. She also felt their eyes on her by extension and she became acutely aware of the picture they must present. Her face flushed and parts of her body that she’d been trying to ignore all night tingled in response. 

The bar didn’t have an extensive selection, and she’d had enough beer, so she accepted a gin. Seb’s voice was now sliding over the room, working its magic. Malfoy pointed to a single seat at the bar and she sat down, lucky for a second time that night. Malfoy lounged against the bar next to her and the space was so crowded that they were touching or almost touching in several places - each of which Hermione was acutely aware of. The casual intimacy of being pressed up against Draco Malfoy… she shook her head slightly. He caught the movement and frowned at her inquiringly, but she just smiled and returned her attention to Seb. 

Two or three songs passed and Hermione was enthralled with the music. Then she felt Malfoy lean down toward her left ear. She shifted her hair aside and tilted her head, feeling his breath blow against her neck before he told her something about Seb’s keyboardist’s technique. She could hardly register what it was. The way they were standing meant that he had to slide one hand along the back of her shoulders and grip the side of her stool back with his other to brace himself as he spoke. It felt for all the world like he was leaning in to kiss her neck, which made her pulse accelerate alarmingly. When he drew back she peeped at him out of the corner of her eye and saw that he was breathing rather more rapidly than normal. 

_So you’re not unaffected, Malfoy. Ha._ Hermione decided to try something. A beat later she looked up over her shoulder as if she wanted to speak to him and he leaned down slightly. Hermione arched her neck maybe a little more than needed and reached her arm up around the back of his head as if to pull him down - ostensibly to brace herself as she twisted round, but really to make if feel like she was pulling him down to kiss her. _Two can play at this game._ She then whispered her question - about whether the guitarist was using alternate tuning - splaying her hand behind his head, but not quite touching it. She thought she could see a pulse in his neck beating rapidly. _Gotcha._ But she also sort of did herself in because being this close to him she could feel his warmth and smell his scent, which was completely delicious to her. She realised she wanted to actually kiss him, and the idea of licking his neck then flitted through her fevered brain. 

She pulled back abruptly and turned away. A very stern inner voice spoke up; _Time to lay off the booze, Granger. Collect yourself! It’s Malfoy, now rock star Malfoy, who probably sleeps with several girls a week - probably several in this room if those looks were anything to go by - and just because you happened to be there when he received the invitation to this gig or you see him breathing or his heart beating doesn’t mean he’s into you. So don’t make a fool of yourself!_

Hermione stiffened her back and resolved to be cool the rest of the night. But she’d forgotten she’d asked him a question, which he now needed to answer. And it seemed like he’d noticed her little game and decided to one up her, because now when he leaned down he also turned toward her, stepping a little into the vee made by her legs. He wasn’t touching her exactly but the whole posture made it feel like he was about to grind into her or she was about to wrap her legs around his waist. And then his mouth came close to her neck and he paused for a beat or two, just breathing, before he answered. 

“He’s using the “Drop D,” he whispered, “meaning the low E string is tuned down one step to D. Since D is usually a 4-string chord, the drop-D gives the D chord use of the whole string, and a more resonant low bass note. But, that means any other chord in the song using the lowest string has to be played a whole step, or two frets higher. That’s how he gets that sound.” He pulled away with a little smile. 

Hermione felt her knickers soak and instantly gave up any pretense of not being very attracted to this man. Even if he was Malfoy. 

At that moment the song finished. Hermione snapped out of her haze of lust and asked the bartender for a large glass of water. She felt Malfoy’s eyes on her, but didn’t look at him. Instead she focused on Seb, who had stepped to the side of the stage and seemed to be discussing something with his lead guitarist. He came back to the microphone and started speaking. 

“So how is everybody doing tonight?” The crowd cheered and whistled. Someone shouted, “Fucking great, Seb!” 

“Good to hear it, good to hear it,” the big man chuckled in his broad east London accent. “Well some of you may not know, but we have another band leader in the crowd tonight. I love his music and I hear, from trusted sources, that he sometimes covers my song Darkness at his shows.” 

Hermione saw that Malfoy had started shaking his head and grinning. A few people in the crowd were starting to look over at him as well. 

“So I was thinking,” Seb continued, “It might be cool to invite him up. Have him sing it with us. What do you say, Gray? I’ll do the harmonies.” 

People had started calling out and whistling. Draco looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows and she smiled hugely, mouthing, “Go, GO!” and making little shooing motions with her hands. He pushed off his stool and started for the stage and the place erupted. Then he threw a little smile back over his shoulder at Hermione and she felt heat rush up her neck to her face. She took a deep breath and fanned herself. Malfoy stepped on stage and greeted Seb. They did that little hand clasp half hug thing that men had perfected. The two singers had a word with the band and then Malfoy grabbed the mic and the band struck up the opening bars of the song. 

The title track off of one of Hermione’s favourite albums of all time, _Darkness_ was a mid tempo song about various things the singer does in the dark, all revolving around a central person - the object of the singer’s desire. The first verse was playful, the second heartbreaking, and the third searingly sexy. A play in three acts in four minutes. 

Seb’s original version of the song was a hard act to follow, but from the first note it was clear that Draco had made it his. He again owned the stage, moving over it with a cool charisma that seemed to enthrall the audience. Within a few bars people were shouting and whooping. At the chorus, they sang along. _Hermione_ sang along, looking around and marveling again at the surrealism of her life at this moment. 

The last verse - the sexy verse - arrived and the band faded away to almost nothing, leaving only Draco. He had the audience in the palm of his hand, totally still and rapt. His eyes were closed and his voice low and husky, Hermione felt it thrum through her body like an electric current. Or maybe it was their magic again, because at the crescendo of the verse, of the whole song really, he opened his eyes and she would have sworn he sang straight to her. Or maybe it was a trick of the lights. Maybe every woman in the audience felt like he was singing to _her_ \- wasn’t that what good performers did? As the last note died the room went absolutely mental. The crowd knew they had seen something special. Seb surged up and really hugged Draco, whispering something in his ear and clapping him on the back. Draco smiled and bowed to the crowd.

Seb then announced that the band would be taking a break before the next set and he and Draco stepped off the little stage and walked toward the bar. The crowd of industry insiders was too cool to bother them, although Seb nodded to a few people as he led them through. Hermione realised they were coming her way and was very much fangirling as they approached, although she was resolved to be chill if Draco introduced her. 

“Gray, brother,” Seb’s voice was rumbling when they drew near. “That was some really nice work up there. They loved you... Loved us.”

They were right in front of her now. Hermione grinned her congratulations and approval at Draco. He gave her a quick smile in return and squeezed her arm, turning to the big man.

“Thanks, Seb. For the invite to the show and up on stage. This is Hermione Granger. She’s a big fan of yours.” 

Hermione was barely able to squeak out a hello, but Seb’s warm smile and warmer handshake relaxed her and she was able to tell him she’d enjoyed the set very much. He thanked her and then turned back to Malfoy. 

“Glad you could come, man. But you know I invited you with ulterior motives other than making you sing.” Draco nodded and Seb smiled. “You got a minute right now? Ms. Granger, you don’t mind if I steal him for a bit?” 

“No, of course not. I’m fine. Such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. St James.” 

The singer took her hand again and lifted it to his lips. “Seb. And the pleasure is all mine.” He winked at her over her knuckles and simultaneously shot a mischievous glance at Draco, who was watching the little performance with an indulgent smile. They made their way to the door with many pairs of eyes following them and Hermione turned back to the bar with a sigh. 

“So you’re with him?” came a voice from beside her. 

“I’m sorry?” she turned to see a very pretty and petite boy perched delicately on the seat next to her. This seemed to be her night for striking up conversations with strangers at bars. The boy waved his hand toward Draco, who was ducking through the door behind Seb. 

“I’m just saying you’re one lucky bitch,” he said with so much charm that Hermione chuckled instead of taking offense. “That little song he just did? _Destroyed_ me and everyone else in here. I consider it a personal tragedy that he’s straight.” 

Hermione laughed, then sighed. “It was rather good. He put a totally different spin on it, but still did it justice.” The boy nodded emphatically. “But I’m not really ‘with him’. I’ve just known him for a long time. We went to school together.” 

“Oh please,” the boy performed an epic eye roll. “I was sitting right next to you two. And he was eye fucking you something fierce during that last verse.” Hermione blushed. “Not that I can blame you. He’s just so fucking gorgeous. I _ache_ for his hair.” Giggling, Hermione privately conceded that Draco did have great hair, but that she’d spent far too much time discussing it with random strangers tonight. She guessed that was the price of going around with someone semi-famous. 

“I’m Thomas,” said the boy, holding out his hand. 

Hermione took it gently, “Hermione, nice to meet you.” 

He cocked his head and looked at her, “Hermione, you have rather wonderful hair too. What products do you use to de-frizz? Can you tell I’m a stylist??” He touched his own perfect coif and dimpled. 

Hermione laughed again and launched into a description of her haircare routine, which was only half true. Most of her look came from a wand, not a curl cream, but of course she couldn’t share that. She managed to change the subject by admiring Thomas’s eye makeup and soon they were deep in conversation. About fifteen minutes passed before Thomas spotted a friend in the crowd and said he had to dash. Fast friends by now, he and Hermione exchanged mobile numbers and hugged before he skipped off. 

Hermione looked around and wondered where the hell Malfoy had gotten to. Seb had come back in, but Draco wasn’t with him, so Hermione decided to go investigate. She slipped through the crowd to the door and pushed her way downstairs and outside. Everyone else was coming in to see the second set, but Draco wasn’t among them. 

Hermione stood in the cool air for a moment just breathing and letting her eyes adjust. Suddenly she heard a soft, “Hey,” from the shadows and noticed Malfoy leaning against a building wall just outside the glow of a streetlamp. 

“Hey, yourself,” she responded, ambling toward him. “I thought maybe you’d left.” 

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” She shrugged and smiled. “No, I was talking to Seb and now I’m thinking about what he said.”

“Oh yeah?” she didn’t want to press him if he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “He wants to do a collab with my band.”

“Oh wow, that would be amazing!” Hermione gasped. “Dream come true material! I think your sound would blend really well too. How cool.”

“I agree with all of that,” he said soberly, “And it would be great for the band. We’d get exposure, probably make a good bit of money for the others. It would open doors for future projects.” 

“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming…” 

He raked his hand through his hair. “It’s me. It would mean more notoriety. I have enough trouble keeping my lives separate as it is. Hiding all the time. It’s been really nice to be with you tonight because I haven’t had to,” he threw her a quick half smile. “Usually when I’m in this scene, I’m watching everything I say and do.” 

“Oh God, of course,” Hermione said, “and if you work with Seb, people would want to know more about you, track down where you live. Photograph you.” He nodded and closed his eyes, tilting his head against the wall. She looked down. “It’s hard to have a foot in both worlds.” 

He pushed up from the wall. “Yeah, you would know that better than anyone else of my acquaintance.” 

“And I’m not remotely famous in the muggle world.” 

“But you are in the wizarding world, so you know how hard it is to manage. How quickly it can get away from you.” She nodded and looked at the ground, thinking. He walked toward her just as she looked up with a gleam in her eye.

“What if you talked to Seb and your bandmates and said you want to do it, but you have problems with the public side of it. And so your condition is no publicity. No photoshoots or live appearances or Venus Session type things. You just do the song and put it out.”

He looked at her speculatively. “Yeah that might help. It’s definitely something to consider. I mean it doesn’t solve the problem of ‘what if the song is so awesome it takes on a life of its own’,” he grinned and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’d like to be able to say you’re being an egotistical prat, but there’s a distinct chance that might happen,” she chuckled. Then she sobered. “And you know, I could, ah, help you - share my tactics with you,” she looked up at him and realised he was suddenly right in front of her, in fact he was so close they were almost touching. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, eyes warm on hers, “I appreciate that. I think you’d be a formidable ally.” 

“Well I was a formidable opponent, wasn’t I?” she sallied. 

“Not so much an opponent now,” he whispered. His hand reached up to touch her face and Hermione’s heart thundered in her chest. His fingers slid lightly into her hair and his thumb stroked across her cheek. 

Her breath caught. _Was this really happening?_ She tilted her head up and then his lips were on hers, gentle but insistent. Her hands, moving of their own volition, slid up his chest to his shoulders and clung to him. The kiss started tender and soft, but almost instantly sparked into flame. He pressed against her and she fell against the wall while his arm went around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. She could smell him and, god, taste him and it was divine. She wound her tongue with his, pushing into his mouth urgently. He groaned against her lips and she felt herself tipping, falling through the most intoxicating of sensations. Kissing him was like being pulled by a fast wave; breathtaking exhilaration. The tingling exchange she’d felt when they’d touched earlier was amplified a thousand times. She’d wanted to kiss him, to touch him and suspected it would be good, but she’d never experienced anything like this. 

Her hands moved up his neck and tangled in his hair. His mouth moved away from hers as he tasted her skin. She threw her head back to give him better access, and moaned, “oh god, Draco.” Even to her own ears her voice sounded breathy, suffused with lust. He must have thought so too, because he returned to her mouth with an even greater urgency, and the kiss fell into a place Hermione had never been before. She lost track the world around her, focused only on their contact and the way it made her feel. 

“I want to ask you something,” he gasped against her lips, after a moment or an eternity - she didn’t know. “But I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” he was kissing her neck again and she thought she’d probably do anything he wanted. 

“Ask,” she whispered. 

“Fuck, you smell fantastic,” he muttered, burying his face in her hair. “I want to ask … if you’ll come home with me. I wouldn’t usually, but I’ve never, I’ve never, felt anything like this. I don’t want this to end.” He was punctuating his words with kisses down her neck to her shoulder. Her jacket had come off at some point. And now he was kissing the top of her breast over the line of her top, so Hermione had a very hard time thinking rationally. Her body was screaming at her to say yes, but her brain - foggy and distant as it was at the moment - had reservations. 

She pulled back slightly, noting that he was adorably disheveled. 

She looked down. “I’m not someone who usually does that. Not the first night. And I don’t like one night stands.” Her voice was still very husky so she cleared her throat and looked up again. “And it bothers me that you probably have a lot of women who will … do that with you.” 

“I actually haven’t been with anyone since I broke up with my ex three months ago,” he said. “I did, uh, take advantage of being in a successful band in the beginning, I admit. But I didn’t like it. I felt… used, if you can believe that,” his mouth quirked in a half smile and impulsively she stood on tip-toe to kiss it. He caught her lips fully and it was a few moments before he spoke again, mumbling against her mouth between kisses, “and as for the one night stand issue ... what are you doing Thursday? There’s a film festival I want to take you to.” She laughed softly against his mouth. “And Saturday?” he pressed, “I would like to make you dinner at my flat. And breakfast on Sunday.” 

“Cheeky,” she muttered. 

“And if you’re not busy next Tuesday we have a gig in Shoreditch.” 

“Ok, ok,” she gasped, smiling fully against his mouth. “Rogue.” He raised a brow at her and looked so fucking cute doing it that it was settled. She kissed him deeply once more, “let’s go.” His eyes gleamed and he disapparated them with a crack.


	3. Chapter 3

They alit in a dark hallway and he had her up against the wall again immediately. She ran her hands up under his shirt and felt the silk of his skin over solid muscle and sinew. Again, intoxicating. _Fuck it_ , she thought and pushed the shirt up over his head. He helped her take it off and she could see him fully. Beautiful. He was beautiful. She leaned back and ran her nails over his chest and stomach, gazing at him with hooded eyes. He looked back, his eyes almost black and his chest moving up and down rapidly. She leaned forward and kissed his skin, tasting him while he moaned and dug his hands into her hair. She took her time exploring him with her mouth and hands until he was panting, and in a single, fluid movement picked her up and carried her down the hall. She gasped a laugh and he smirked at her. Being carried to bed by a beautiful, shirtless man. _Now this was some romance novel shit._

They moved down the hall and Hermione had a sense of large rooms through doorways on either side. Then they came to a dark rectangle at the end and passed through. He muttered a soft _lumos_ and a tiny, warm light flared next to a low bed. He set her down gently and moved over her, slipping down the thin strap of her top to kiss her shoulder. He made quick work of the shirt and her and bra, muttering something about “fucking perfect tits,” in a reverent tone. He spent some time on them, bringing Hermione to a point where she was gasping and furiously tugging at his belt buckle. He laughed softly and helped her, sliding his jeans off with a swift movement. She was about to shimmy out of hers, when he pointed his wand at her and they were whisked off and into a neatly folded bundle on a chair.

“I learned a long time ago not to fuss with you women's tight jeans,” he said with a grin. She smacked him playfully, pushed him on his back and straddled him, intending to make him pay for his cheek. Rising up, she arched her back and gazed down at him while she ground slowly against his very obvious erection. “Fuuuuck,” he groaned, reaching up to roll her nipples between his fingers. She moaned - it felt _so_ good - then bent down to kiss him again. His hand slid from her breast and stroked down her stomach into her knickers. “You’re so wet for me,” he muttered against her lips.

“I have been since you told me about the alternate tuning,” she whispered in response. He breathed a laugh as his fingers slid against her clit in a delicious rhythm.

“I knew you’d like that.”

Hermione felt her eyes roll back and suddenly she didn’t want to be on top anymore. She wanted to be under him while he fucked her until she came hard on his cock … so she told him. His eyes went completely black before he flipped them over and jerked her knickers down.

She ripped his trunks off with the same force and whispered in his ear. “You can take your time later, but now _please_ just fuck me, Draco.” She accompanied her request by wrapping her hand around his cock and stroking down the length.

He inhaled sharply. “God, that’s so good.”

She let go of him and ran her nails up his back pulling him toward her. “Don’t go slow, I’m so wet,” she whispered urgently.

“Your wish is my… _FUCK_!” he cried as he slid into her, burying himself to the hilt. He looked down at her like he was seeing god, they fit together so well. He pulled back and then plunged into her again, eliciting moans from both of them. He thrust in and out again, then set up a relentless pace. She gasped at the exquisite feeling of it. He was so big and she was so swollen with arousal that the top of his cock was rubbing against her clit every time he thrust. Hermione felt like she was going to go out of her head. She was also going to come - soon.

“Oh my fucking god, oh my fucking GOD! _Draco_!!!” She didn’t care that she was calling his name. This was like nothing she’d ever felt and she wasn’t holding back. By the sound of it, he felt the same. She wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him even deeper. His thrusts came faster and he was gasping on every stroke, gripping her hips and pounding her into the mattress. Hermione felt herself gather into a furious upward spiral of pleasure before shattering completely, alternately swearing and screaming his name. He came about a second later, yelling his completion before collapsing onto her body.

They lay there for an hour or a day or maybe it was ten minutes. Her fingers found their way into his hair and she stroked him gently. He buried his face into her shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“Do you know how good you smell?” he murmured, rolling off of her and pulling her with him so she rested on his chest.

“Mmm,” she sighed. “You taste even better.” He huffed a soft laugh and started playing with her hair. “Who’d have thought…” she whispered, stroking his chest.

“Who’d have thought,” he echoed, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Careful, Granger, you might end up back underneath me if you keep touching me like that.”

“Worse things could happen,” she smirked, dipping her hand lower and scooting up to kiss him. He wrapped his hand behind her head and held her in place, tonguing deep into her mouth. She kissed him back and slid her leg up his body, rubbing herself against him.

He groaned, “I’m serious, woman. I could go again. And it won’t be fast and furious this time. I’ll take my sweet time with you.”

“Somehow that threat fails to scare me,” she retorted, dipping down and nipping his neck. He growled and swept his hands over her ass and up the curve of her hips and waist to her breasts. She continued kissing and nipping down his neck to his shoulder. Then she raised her head and looked at him, _god he was fucking gorgeous_. “Although, Draco…”

“Yes?” he murmured, his eyes and hands now on her tits.

“I actually just realised that I’m absolutely starving. I never ate dinner tonight.”

His eyes flicked up. “You want to eat? I make a fantastic cheese toastie. Tomato. Dill. Three kinds of cheese, minimum”

She giggled. “That sounds fucking amazing.”

“And I think I have some strawberries,” he mused. “No, we can’t have you hungry,” he placed her gently aside and stood up out of bed. Hermione enjoyed the view very much, licking her lips as she watched him slip into a pair of drawstring trousers. They way they clung low on his hips was criminal. If Thomas and the front row girls could see him now…

“I’ll find you in a minute,” she said, “just going to clean up.” He nodded and walked into the hall.

Hermione cast the necessary spells and looked out her knickers, which had ended up across the room. She really didn’t want to put her jeans or bra back on. Luckily there was a soft cotton button-down slung across the back of the chair. She slipped it on, buttoned a strategic button and padded down the hall. Peeking into the doorways she’d glimpsed on the way in, she saw what looked like a large living room and another bedroom. The kitchen was nearer the front door. Delicious smells were already emanating from it, and Hermione lounged in the doorway watching Draco bustle around. Dark gray cabinets and walls, a slate floor, black counters - it was very sleek and masculine. Something warm and pretty played from a hidden speaker and he was singing along. How funny to hear his voice now. How lovely. She tilted her head on the doorframe and thought of watching him on stage. _Hot, hot, hot_. She sighed. He heard her and looked over.

“Wearing my shirt and nothing else?” he said with a raised brow. “I really didn’t think this night could get any better.”

“Well I do have my knickers on.”

“Shame.”

She hopped up on chair at the kitchen island. Taking a deep breath she asked, “so about this film festival…?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“What kind of film and where and all that?”

“American Film Noir. Soho. Roxy Theatre. I went last year. It was great. All these campy old gangster and murder mystery films. Some people even dress up. I think you’ll like it.” He threw her a smile over his shoulder.

Warmth spread through her chest - _so it hadn’t been just a ploy to get her in bed._

“I’m sure I will. I love all those hard boiled-detectives and brassy dames.” She crossed her legs and stuck her chest out, mimicking a femme fatale.

He eyed her, then stepped over and kissed her, brazenly feeling her up under his shirt. “You know what we do to brassy dames around here, don’t you?”

“Don’t burn my sandwich, Malfoy.”

“Ooh, still bossy, I see,” he quipped, sidestepping the slap she directed at his arse. But then he redeemed himself by placing the platonic ideal of a toastie in front of her. She immediately began devouring it.

“Oh my GOD, this is almost as good as the sex we just had.”

Draco leaned against the counter, bit into his own sandwich, chewed and swallowed, “while I do agree that my toasties are legendary, I would strenuously argue that _nothing_ is as good as the sex we just had. And the sex we are _going_ to have now that I’ve seen you in that shirt.”

She snorted and regretfully popped the last bit of her sandwich into her mouth.

“You don’t think I’m serious, Granger?”

“Nope.”

“No?” he pushed off the counter and started toward her.

She shook her head, unsuccessfully hiding a grin. “You’re too tired.”

“I’m a night owl.”

“I took everything you had last time. You’ll need at least a few hours to recover.”

“You want to reach down and see how recovered I am?” He was now looming over her, his obvious erection very visible through his thin trousers.

“Strawberry?” she offered him a bright red fruit from a bowl on the counter and he bit it from her fingers, chewing slowly and deliberately while he looked into her eyes. Hermione’s knickers completely drenched again and she bit her lip while giving him a come hither smile.

Draco made a sound somewhere between desire and exasperation and hauled her up onto the counter, spreading her legs and pulling her roughly against him. His mouth was on hers and his hands were everywhere, kneading her breasts and grabbing her ass. She palmed his cock and began stroking him through the fabric until he reached down and pulled the drawstring. “Oooh yes, please,” she moaned...

A good deal later, they lay in his bed, utterly exhausted. The last hour had been an erotic tour of the whole flat and Hermione had enjoyed every second. ‘Enjoyed’ wasn’t really even a strong enough word. Felt ecstatic about? Utterly delighted in? She’d have to think about it. Again and again.

She ran her fingers through his hair, “Imagine being born with this color,” she murmured, threading the silky strands against her fingers. “You know I talked to two separate people tonight whose love of you hinges on your hair first and your music second?”

He snorted and swatted her ass. “Bitch. And actually, it’s dyed.”

“WHAT!!?”

“Yeah, ever since I was 5 years old. Bleach baths every 3 weeks. It’s the Malfoy way,” he sighed mournfully.

She raised her head and looked at him. He began shaking with silent laughter. “Oh you are SO full of shit!” she yelled. “You’ll pay for that!” She climbed on top of him and tried to tickle him, but he grabbed her wrists and flipped her over, half pinning her with his body.

“Oh no, no, no. We do not tickle,” he admonished, holding her wrists above her head.

“Can you not handle it?” she said with a wide grin. “What a _good_ thing to know about you…”

He stopped her voice with a deep kiss that heated up yet again until her eye caught the clock on his bedside table. 4am. She broke the kiss and nodded toward the clock.

“It is so, SO late, Draco. I think I need to go.”

“Go? Why wouldn’t you stay?” he asked, propping up on his elbow and looking at her quizzically.

“I just,” she wanted to choose her words carefully, “I have had the _best_ time tonight. But it has been so utterly unexpected. I think I need to wake up in my own bed to balance it out. If you know what I mean.”

He nodded, “sounds reasonable.”

“I’m already looking forward to Thursday.”

“And don’t forget Saturday,” he said quickly.

She grinned, “and Sunday morning. I’m expecting an epic breakfast after what I’m going to do to you to thank you for dinner.”

His eyes gleamed, “is that a promise?”

“Very much so,” she said and leaned up to kiss him. He kissed her back and then helped her up off the bed and watched her while she dressed.

“You know, if someone had told me when I left this flat earlier tonight that this is how my night would end, I would have said they were stark, raving mad,” he mused.

“Same,” she laughed. “But I’m so very glad it happened.”

“Same,” he said, getting up and walking over to her. He stroked his thumb down her cheek the same way he had when he’d first kissed her earlier and she tilted her head into the caress, closing her eyes and sighing. Then she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Until Thursday…”

“Until then.”

FIN


	4. Epilogue

_Six Months Later. INT LONDON FLAT. Late Sunday morning. DRACO MALFOY and HERMIONE GRANGER are lounging in the living room, sitting next to each other in arm chairs, listening to music and handing sections of the newspaper back and forth._

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to tell you my version of the night we first ‘met’ again?” Draco asked, folding his paper and looking up. 

“Yes, I did! It was something you said the other day - about how you found me in the audience at your show. It made me think we had two different takes on it. So now I want the whole story.” She put down her section of the _Times_ and straightened in her chair.

“Right, right. It was at Potter’s party. You were on about some bollocks theory that our magic reached out and touched before we even saw each other. Very wooly magical doctrine to be coming from you, Granger…” he tsked. 

She flipped him the bird. “Then how did you know to come directly to me not two minutes after you stepped off stage??” 

“Because I _saw_ you, you silly cow. Stage lights aren’t completely blinding, you know. And for a few songs we had them down very low. The Point Club is rather small and you were sitting at the bar, which is lit. I recognised you! By your gorgeous, luscious, cascading hair.” 

“What?” she squinted at him. 

“You don’t think I would come bounding offstage for any Joe Wizard who happened to show up at a gig, do you? No, I was watching you all night. And you looked _good_. I wanted to come talk to you.” 

“But the first thing you said was, ‘It was _you_.’!”

“No, I said, “'it _was_ you.’ Subtle but important distinction.” 

She stared at him for a full ten seconds, “This changes everything!”

He stretched and yawned. “Not really.” 

“Well not to you! But I thought you spent the whole first part of the night becoming attracted to me!”

“When in actuality, I wanted to get in your knickers all along,” he supplied with a smirk. 

She threw a pillow at him and he caught it, his eyes dancing. “Now, now darling. So where was I…? Oh yes, so I hustled off the stage and back to the bar posthaste and was greeted with the spectacular sight of you bending over to retrieve something off the ground.” He stared into space as if reliving a fond memory. Hermione growled.

“Ok, ok. But this is actually a crucial point in the story. Because I had no idea why you were there. Did you know it was my band? How did you feel about me? We hadn’t talked in, what, 7 or 8 years? And I remember thinking that if you were cool to me or in a hurry or seemed uninterested, I would say a quick hello and let you go on your way. But you turned around with the most beautiful, warm smile.” He paused and looked at her, covering his heart with his hand. “You knocked me sideways. I’d forgotten how beautiful you were.” 

Hermione sent him a sweet look. “Well I had just watched you be utterly sexy and talented on stage for an hour. Of course I was warm.” He raised his brows in a suggestive manner and she made a ‘continue’ motion with her hand. 

“So then I made it my mission to make sure you didn’t leave before having a drink with me. Mission accomplished by putting my controlling, yet charming and persuasive nature to good use. And then, let’s see. We had a lovely little conversation. You were even more intriguing once I started talking to you.” Hermione blew him a kiss and he smiled. 

“And I managed to get you to agree to see me again by dangling my library in front of you… Stroke of genius, I must say. Then, I was just trying to figure out how to get you to come to a second location with me when Seb’s timely text came in. Thank you, Seb.” 

“So when we got to the gig,” asked Hermione, squinting at him. “Were you deliberately flirting with me by whispering in my ear and leaning over me and all that? Or was that all in my mind? 

“Absolutely flirting. Absolutely trying to get you hot and bothered. Absolutely getting my own sexual gratification out of it,” he confirmed. She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Look,” he continued, “I’d decided by then that I wanted to ask you out. I also definitely wanted to kiss you that night. I could tell you were into it.” He put on a high-pitched voice, “Oh let me just twist my arm up around the back of his head and practically nibble his ear while I ask him an unbearably sexy question about alternate tunings.” Hermione sent him a wicked smile; _Guilty_. “But!” he held up a finger, “the joke was on you because when you did that I could see all the way down your top!” She stuck her tongue out at him. “That lovely, lovely top,” he mused. 

“It was a grey cotton vest top, Draco.” 

“And it clung so lovingly to your breasts. I spent a good part of the night imagining the strap slipping off and me kissing the spot underneath.” He shot her a heated look that she returned with interest. 

“In fact, you’re wearing a very similar top right now,” he said with narrowed eyes. “Why don’t you come here and sit with me while I tell you the rest of my story,” he patted his lap. 

“Will you stay focused?” she asked. 

“Probably not. But we’ve got nothing on today.” 

She went. 

_53 MINUTES LATER …_

“Ah, so where was I?” he asked, raking his hair back - a bit breathless. 

“Mmm, your performance with Seb,” she sighed, sounding very relaxed. “Completely destroyed my knickers with that.” 

He looked at her for a beat. “If we hadn’t just... I would...” 

“I know. I’ll tell you all about the state of my knickers that night in great detail later. Now, the rest of the story.” 

“Ok. So onstage with Seb. Was thinking about you _specifically_ the whole time I sang. I think it made the performance more intense, which is why the crowd loved it so much.”

“And I loved it so much. Let’s face it, it’s a big reason you got laid that night.” 

“Thank god for the power of song,” he said fervently. “Anyway, yeah so after that I went out with Seb and then you came and found me. And that’s when the night got really interesting. Because I did intend to kiss you and _of course_ I wanted to sleep with you, but the possibility of that _actually happening_ wasn’t even in my mind. I thought we would snog and it would be great and I would ask you out for Thursday and see where it went next. Hopefully with the ultimate result being you sitting on my face at some point in the near future. But you know, in a few weeks. The following week if I was lucky.” Hermione smirked.

“But then we kissed,” he paused and looked down at her. “And it was simply like nothing I’d ever felt. It was like accelerating very fast - like flying for the first time. I lost track of everything around me - I still don’t know how much time passed before we came up for air and I asked you to go home with me. I hardly even remember forming those words. So maybe there is something to your wooly little theory.” He gazed at her and tapped his chin.

“I truly think there is, Draco. I mean there’s the muggle science-y bit; our pheromones really like each other - hence our enjoyment of each other’s scent and taste. I also love your mind.” His eyes warmed on her. “And we’re obviously attracted to each other physically.”

“Obviously,” he said silkily, flicking down the strap of her top and ogling her breast. She swatted his hand. 

“But there is something more. And I think it’s to do with our magic. The best way I can describe it is that it’s an affinity. I actually found some books in the library...”

“I concede.” He held up his hand, smiling affectionately at her. “It probably explains a bit of what happened after I asked you to go home with me - and everything since.” 

“Mmm I think that’s my favourite part of the story,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Mine too.” He kissed her. 

“So, it was the unexpected best night ever no matter who tells the tale.” 

“Exactly.” 

FIN


End file.
